


In Exile

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Drama, Future, Season/Series 05, What-If, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-06
Updated: 2009-01-06
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: From when Justin gets on the plane leavin for NYC...“I know how men in exile feed on dreams of hope” Aeschylus





	In Exile

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Disclaimer: Usual disclaimer of non-ownership applies. 

Feedback/Reviews are really and truly appreciated!

* * *

When Justin caught his flight to NYC amid the mid-November snows, the difference between what he wanted to happen and what he feared would occur seemed more stressful than the prospect of moving from home and trying to survive in the most challenging city in the world. 

 

He wanted to believe that the love he felt for Brian, a love he was unshakably certain was returned, would guarantee that in the coming weeks and months (he could not yet think of _years_ ) they would see each other. He would visit Pittsburgh, Brian would come to New York, they would stay in touch almost daily by phone or email – it could work.  Justin needed that belief to hold his hands steady enough to buckle his seat belt when the flight attendant reminded him to. Promising himself that he could _make_ it work – that he would go home every few weeks if necessary – was the only way he managed to sit calmly on the plane as it took off. 

 

In flight, however, dread seemed to grow.  He could only think of all the logical reasons why it would _never_ work, why he would lose the most important part of his personal life to achieve professional success, and why he was making a horrendous mistake all seemed very clear and overwhelming. Justin tried to turn his mind away from the fear. He closed his eyes and tried to identify his fear. It was a technique of stress management someone had tried to teach him years ago when he was in physiotherapy.  He hadn’t been calm enough to use it then, but the idea of rationalizing fear away had appealed to him since then. 

 

_What am I really afraid of?_ Justin thought and began to sort through his anxiety. _Brian won’t visit. At first, he’ll say it’s to let me get on my feet and be independent, then he’ll decided I am doing so well that he shouldn’t get in my way. Or he’ll think I don’t want him and instead of asking - he’ll just not show up. He’ll say it was a bad week to leave. Maybe a client in town only for a few days – or he’ll have to go to some fucking weird place to meet them. And then months will go by and the assumed invitation will be gone and…… we will be in each other’s way. We’ll decide to get over it. We’ll have broken up without saying a word. He’ll drink and trick all the time. I’ll send Christmas gifts and he’ll leave vague messages on my voicemail. I’ll only hear how really he is through Mel or Lindsay calling to check in on me. He’ll become too distant and he’ll be so determined to be unattached that I won’t know what to do to even be around him. Christ. What am I doing? I don’t want this. I don’t need this_. 

 

Justin knew that Brian had known the truth.  Justin did want the success and attention of really making it as an artist. He wanted recognition, sell-out shows, and his name to be known. He dreamed of his art being hung in prestigious galleries worldwide. He wanted his work being discussed, coveted and people wanting it in their lives. Brian had known how much Justin craved that.  Justin had wondered if Brian understood that although he wanted the accolades and glory of success – what Justin wanted more than anything was for Brian to be impressed and proud of Justin.  He wanted Brian to acknowledge, one day, that Justin was _more_ than Brian had ever wanted or hoped for him to become.  Justin wanted that enough to risk everything they had. Brian’s assessment of him not wanting to go - of Justin throwing his life away for love – had really stung. There was an underlying implication that he didn’t have a life worth sharing without trying for this intangible success first. What would it mean if he failed? How long should he try? How long was enough for them to be together? How successful – how many shows, how many good reviews, how many sales – till he could rest and know he was all right? Was there any point in time he could just say he was done, and enjoy Brian’s congratulations? There were too many questions and no answers. Nothing was quantifiable. There were no set terms. No set time or even goals. Just go and be a big fucking success. Then they’d see where they were at.  

 

 Feeding the fear of how very wrong what he was doing , was the absolute certainty that Brian was going to make himself unavailable and soon. Brian had hedged around pinning dates for him to come see NYC. He had valid sounding reasons – work, rebuilding Babylon, clients, finally going to Toronto to see Gus… but Justin knew underneath there was a message. Brian wouldn’t set a date because he wouldn’t get in Justin’s way.  Brian would wait and avoid until he thought it was right for Justin – and then he would decide that since Justin was settled that he should back off. 

_Fuck_ , Justin thought, _how can I possibly win? If I ask him to visit, he thinks he shouldn’t so I get used to being on my own. If I don’t need him, he decides to leave me alone since I am doing fine. No fucking way out. Another masterful move by Kinney_.

_There must be a way to balance all this._ He sighed deeply. The exhalation fogged the window and he closed his eyes. There was a way around this. And this time, he knew that Brian’s need to be with him would help. He sighed again. _Yeah_ , he thought, _Brian needs me – but he needs me to know I can succeed more than he needs me to be with him._ Eyes still closed, he imagined them dancing around this issue for months until months became years and they had entirely separate lives. They’d become concerned, loving but very distant and awkwardly intimate friends _._   

 

A dull headache began to pound his temples as he realized that this really wasn’t the thing he should be truly concerned about. He had a place to go – a futon in the tiny apartment of a friend of Daphne’s in the East Village. No job, though. He had enough money in savings to make ends meet for a few months. But he couldn’t – and really didn’t want to - live in Joe’s living room indefinitely. Joe had emailed him and told Justin that because rent was so high, he had gotten used to renting out the couch for more than Justin had paid for his shithole hovel he had moved into after leaving Brian. He’d be paying $600 for a futon and access to the bathroom. But the stove doesn’t really work so plan on eating out, Joe had added, and just for a month or two. Justin had wondered if there was someone else lined up to rent the sofa after him, or if Joe just needed some cash and then would be fine on his own.  

 

Either way, Justin needed a job. And a space to paint and an apartment or at least a bedroom. And an agent. And more time. And a plan for how to deal with Brian. Didn’t Brian know that by being so fucking determined not to get in Justin’s way he was more in the way – more stressful at least – than ever before?  Justin’s headache seemed to get worse at the realization that he had so very much he was required to do just to get by, and so very much to plan to just keep what he had already. 


End file.
